“How far till we get to the Dragon King?” Dawl asked as they walked through the forest.
Guin checked her map and waved her hand in a northeast direction. “Not long now,” she told him. “Should be about five or ten minutes that way, barring any enemies.”
Dawl grunted and went off scouting ahead of them.
Working together, the trio had accomplished three of the goals given to them by the fox spirit easily. They had disarmed every trap they had found along the way—which ended up being far more than the required twenty—and Guin’s bag was now full of logs and flowers.
In doing the tasks for the two quests, she had also done quite a bit, character-wise. With all the traps and the trek through the forest with her knowledgeable escorts, she had been able to increase her [Herbalism] and [Engineering] skills quite quickly.
Under Dawl’s tutelage, she had managed to not only increase her [Cryptozoology] skills as he taught her more about the creatures of the woods, but she also gained the very valuable [Survival] skill as he gave her some tips and tricks to living out in the wild. Seeming to find her curiosity endearing, he also gave her a bow and some arrows, teaching her the [Archery Specialization] and a basic arrow ability.
Meanwhile, Jormund seemed focused on his mission at best and distracted by his guilt at worst. Guin tried talking to him, but he would usually just smile and give a one-word answer. Dawl got fed up with him before she did and gave him a comical and self-deprecating talking-to which ended up with Jormund making more of an effort to interact with them, even if he ended up looking even more guilty.
As they walked, Guin eyed Jormund. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said with some difficulty. “I feel as if I am a liar. A fake. No matter what I do, I am always pretending to be something I am not.”
“What is it that you want to be?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “A person, I suppose. One who can live without being afraid he’ll be executed tomorrow for being discovered that he’s in the wrong place. One... who can live without the feeling they have betrayed everyone they have ever loved. One who could face the Dragon King with a confident heart rather than a trembling one.”
Guin had no answer for him. She could see the gears in his head twisting and turning. She wished she could offer him advice, yet she had to admit that aside from it not being her place, she wasn’t even she what she would tell herself in his situation.
His wounds are deep and have nothing to do with me, she reminded herself and looked after the path they had taken. And perhaps that’s the point.
“You’re pretty good with that spear,” she said, pointing to it. Having time to look at it, she noticed that the spear didn’t seem to be just any spear. It was a partizan with an elaborate white and silver decoration where the blade met the shaft. The shaft itself was wrapped in what looked to be white and black strings of leather.
Jormund lifted it. “Mmm,” he went. “My mother taught me.”
“What happened to your mother?” Guin asked him.
“She went back to the Imperial City after I took over the church,” he told her. “She never liked it here. She only stayed to see me safe.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Sometimes,” Jormund’s eyes looked sad, but then he smiled. “But it’s no matter.”
“Could you teach me?” Guin asked.
“Teach you?”
She pointed at his spear. “How to use a spear.” Jormund looked at her suspiciously. Irritated, Guin pulled out her dagger and, pointing it at him, said, “I am big and ugly enough to take care of myself, and I’m gonna do it anyway.”
Jormund chuckled, reached into his bag, and pulled out a plain-looking starter spear. “I suppose it’s better for you to be trained on how to use something than for you to learn bad habits on your own,” he said, handing the spear to her. “Speaking of which, if you are going to keep using that dagger, you really should have someone teach you how to use it.”
Taking the new weapon from him, Guin grinned. “I’ll learn from you well enough!” she said, playing with her new toy.
“What are you two doing?” Dawl came out from behind a tree. “Playing?”
“Jormund is going to teach me!” Guin told him with excitement.
Dawl laughed. “Is that so? Shall we take a rest then before moving on?”
“Just a short one,” Jormund said.
They took a half-hour rest in which Guin gained the [Spear Specialization] and the ability [Spear - Strike]. Incredibly glad that she would retire her dagger to her bag, she took a quick look through her character sheet to check her progress. She was happy to see that her little character was already starting to meet her goals for the tutorial, not only in her stats but in her skills.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Now,” Dawl crossed his arms. “We are in the right area, but how is it that we find the Dragon King’s Grotto? I’ve done a few rounds around the area, but there was nothing that was all that interesting.”
“If I were a real Servant, then I would be able to summon the gateway,” Jormund said.
“But you aren’t,” said Dawl.
“But I’m not,” agreed Jormund.
“Is there another way to summon it?” Guin asked.
Jormund shook his head. “I do not know,” he told them. “Perhaps a powerful spirit could, but I don’t want to risk any more corruption.”
A powerful spirit? Guin tilted her head. What about— “Liorax?” she called, and the cat spirit appeared. “Liorax, do you know how we can get to the Dragon King’s Grotto?”
“What is a ‘Liorax’?” Dawl asked.
Jormund stared at the cat with annoyance on his face. “A troublesome cat,” he told his friend, who just looked at him blankly. Liorax floated over to Jormund, grinning widely.
“So,” Liorax went. “The fool priest can see us. And what’s this? The Servant’s mantle? How quaint.”
“How is a cat supposed to help us find the Dragon King?” Jormund asked.
“This one doubts me,” Liorax grinned even wider. “What a fool, doubting Death.”
“I told you to leave him alone,” Guin grumbled at him. “Can you help us?”
“Oh, I could,” Liorax said, floating over to land on Guin’s head. “But it would be quite redundant. The Webspinner read your fate well, Candidate. Wise awaits you now at the Tree of Dreams!”
Annoyed at the game, Guin went, “The what?”
“Just walk on, now,” Liorax told her, floating off her head. “Shall I lead the way?”
“I-I guess?”
Dawl poked Jormund’s arm. “What’s going on, exactly?”
With a look of concern, Jormund nodded his head in the direction where Liorax was floating. “Just follow Guin,” he said.
Several dozens of Beedants and Moarbits later, the group came upon a tree with a large trunk covered in vines. Liorax turned and floated in front of it as they walked toward it.
“Didn’t you say Wise would be here?” Guin asked.
“It seems that she has gone ahead,” Liorax told her. “It matters not,” he said and began to glow again. The vines on the tree parted, revealing a dark path inside the trunk. Parts of the tree that weren’t covered in vines and overgrowth were either glistening with moisture or sprouting moss.
Wearily, Guin stuck her head inside. “We go inside of this thing?” she wondered out loud, her voice echoing through the cave.
“Indeed,” Liorax told her as he disappeared, leaving her with a speed buff.
Jormund looked around. “I think,” he went. “I think I recognize this place.”
“Do you?” Dawl looked dubious.
“We should go in,” the pastor in the blue cloak said, his voice sounding stronger than it had before.
“Go in?” Dawl did not seem convinced. “Just like that? It’s pitch black in there, and from the looks of that trunk, it can’t be that deep. Tell me that’s not odd.”
Jormund looked at him stupidly. “We are speaking about the home of the Dragon King,” he said. “Did you think it would be normal? Did you think it would come with a welcome sign? ‘Enter here to see the Dragon King! Come one and all!’ Lady, spare me—this is White Fox Forest, and you are pointing out that something is ‘odd’?”
“Don’t have to put it that way,” Dawl grumbled, scuffing his feet. “I was only pointing it out..” Jormund tsk-ed at his friend with crossed arms. Amused, Guin watched the boyish interaction between the two men before turning to the cave. Dawl was not wrong, but they had no choice.
Dawl made a torch and took the first step in. He was right, Guin realized as she followed. There was something odd about the cave.
For starters, it was much, much bigger than it looked from the outside. From the outside, it had just been a tree; the cave had started off barely wide enough for them to walk through one at a time—but the further they went in, it became wide enough to stand a good distance apart side to side. The air in the cavern was also strange; it felt quite cool, dry, and comfortable and had the faint scent of flowers rather than earth.
Ten minutes in, small, floating orbs of light began to appear, drifting toward them in peaceful quiet. At first, there were only one or two, but eventually, they filled the whole cavern, lighting up the place enough that Dawl just put his torch out.
The blue lights hovered, beautiful and delicate. There was no body to them; they were just lights floating through the cave like large fireflies. Putting her hand up to one of them told Guin little more about what they were, as, though they were warm to the touch, they may as well have been wisps of smoke.
Walking, walking.
Does this ever end? Guin bit her lip and looked at the lights as they floated like stars through space. It gave a feeling of calm and serenity that made her want to sit down and watch them forever. They gave an illusion that they weren’t even moving as it was, but she knew that their feet were all moving, as she could hear their footsteps.
But as she looked at the ground, she grew curious. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... Guin started counting her steps, but her eyes rested on a little shaded outcropping in the cave wall.
‘Shit! Guin exclaimed, stopping in her tracks. No matter how many steps she counted, the shadow only moved as the little lights passed. The other two looked at her in confusion as she turned around and looked around the cavern. “What the hell...?”
Guin’s mind raced as she knelt and checked the ground around her feet. They weren’t floating, but when she ran a hand across the stone floor, its appearance did not match its texture. It looked like crumbling, uneven stone, but when she touched it, it was smooth.
Looking back up at Dawl and Jormund, she asked, “Would either of you know how to dispel an illusion?”
“An illusion?” Dawl looked around. “Have we been tricked?”
Not bothering to ask any questions, Jormund simply said, “I can,” and pulled out a piece of charcoal and a handful of leaves. He drew a magic circle on the ground and placed the leaves a certain points of it. After lighting the leaves on fire, he began to pray; his hands clasped together. The smoke from the leaves spread up and out and filled the air with the strange scent of decay mixed with tangerines. Though Guin could hardly stand the smell, the illusion was swept away as if it were dust on a wind that had begun where Jormund had prayed. Seriously, this game and its smells...
With the illusion lifted, the three found themselves standing in a place they did not expect to end up in. They weren’t in a cave at all but a courtyard. Warm rays of sunlight shone down on them and illuminated what looked to be a perfectly manicured garden, complete with a stone-tiled pathway. And in the center, sitting on a dragon fountain in the center of the courtyard was—
“Wise!” Guin exclaimed, running over as the owl cooed warmly at her.
“Welcome, Candidate,” Wise said, her voice sounding as bemused as ever. “You’ve done well. I see you have found your way here—and not alone.” Wise looked up at the two who were standing behind her, confused. Wise, however, seemed to have an odd ring of joy as she said, “I bid thee welcome, Sir Jormund, Sir Eurn. The Dragon King is expecting you.”